


Beloved

by SongOfMarbule



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 03:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13538616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfMarbule/pseuds/SongOfMarbule
Summary: Okay, so, it's my fourth year anniversary with Ignis, and I kinda... bought a ring. I know, right? Me, Prompto Argentum, proposing. So… if you could go ahead and send me some positive vibes, that would be great, 'cause I sure could use them right about now. Tonight's gonna go perfectly, right?





	Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my entry for Promnis Week Day 7!! It was a bonus day, so I chose the thought of Prompto proposing as the prompt. It kind of ran away with me a bit in length, but I had a lot of fun writing it! Also, it's my first time writing in first person, and honestly I don't know how it took me this long to do it because it's my favourite tense. Enjoy! <3

Outside, summer nights are the best nights. Really, how could you go wrong? They’re the perfect temperature; not too warm, not too cold, either. If it wasn’t considered public indecency, you could totally get away with wearing no clothes at all and just be comfortably relaxed, just, all and all  _ good _ , with nothing but a sleeping bag under your bare back and the canopy of sparkling stars above you.

Until the mosquitoes strike, that is. I’d learned that the hard way during a dare, back when Noct and I were teens, and apparently mosquitoes really love to feast on the rump. Itchy.

Ignis and I aren’t naked, though, and there are no mosquitoes, thanks to the citronella candles Ignis had lit. But we  _ are _ outside, on a warm summer night. We’d packed sleeping bags and a little picnic basket of food, and we’ve just been hanging out… chilling… talking. It’s casual. And that’s fine. But it almost feels too casual for what I had in mind for the evening.

So, it’s kind of… our anniversary. Our four year anniversary, to be precise. In comparison to some people, we haven’t been together for very long at all, but for me, for  _ us _ , it feels like it’s been an eternity. Our relationship had been a long time coming, anyway. Years and years of us bumbling around each other like lovesick fools, convincing ourselves that there was absolutely no way that the other person had any interest in them. Gods, sometimes I want to go back in time and kick my past self square in the ass, shake him by the shoulders and tell him, “DUDE. IGNIS IS TOTALLY INTO YOU. LIKE, DAMN. JUST GO KISS HIM ALREADY.” So honestly, even if it’s ‘only four years’ in reality, to us, we’ve been pretty much indirectly dating for like, ten.

But still.

Is four years considered enough time, socially, to propose to someone?

That’s what I’ve been asking myself over and over for months. Is it too soon? Is it just enough? With our history, how long we’ve known each other and have had mutual feelings for one another, did it even  _ matter _ , in the long run? Some days I’d think so hard about it that it’d give me a migraine, and I’d take that as a sign that yeah, sure, four years  _ was _ too soon. Don’t jump the gun, Argentum. Cool your jets. Ignis wasn’t going anywhere. (I hoped).

Except, I went ahead and jumped the gun anyway. I worked hard, what with those extra hours at my job, saved up a crapload of money, and secretly went on my merry way to the local jeweller’s just down the street from our place.

Rings are complicated, man. I didn’t know a damn thing about jewelry - I still don’t. But as luck would have it, the guy behind the counter - nice dude, wasn’t judging me at  _ all  _ (hopefully) - walked me through the process, and after careful consideration, I managed to pick out a ring. It was perfect. It was modest. It was something Ignis would like.

At least, I hope it is.

That ring sits in a velvety red box and is currently bludgeoning me in the butt via my pants pocket. Why the heck did I put it in my back pocket, anyway? I know that’s generally the cool place for dudes to put their wallets, but engagement rings?

Told you I was a newbie to this whole thing.

Man, just… just what does Ignis even see in me, anyway?

Turns out, he sees a lot. And every single time I look at him, I feel like the luckiest guy on Eos. And I am. That much is a fact, because Ignis Scientia doesn’t give just anyone the time of day, oh no. He always acts on a schedule, and every little thing he says and does has a purpose, with no time wasted.

But he’d wasted a lot of time on me.

Little ol’ me, silly ol’ Prompto Argentum, awkward nerd extraordinaire.

Gods, I love him.

Ignis and I lie side by side on the sleeping bag, staring up at the stars. We’d been sipping on some fancy-shmancy wine, and the cake I’d just finished off tasted really damn good. Ignis made the  _ best _ desserts, and it was kind of unfair to my poor figure.

“So, Prompto,” Ignis begins as he takes my right hand in his. “Surely you’re bored of me by now, after four years---”

“Nope,” I interrupt. “Far from it.”

“All right then, so perhaps you’re not. That’s good news for me.” Ignis smirks, and I laugh as I move closer to him, giving him a nudge of the elbow. 

“Where were you going with that thought?” I ask him, curious. Best part about Ignis? He always comes up with the best, and sometimes the weirdest, topics of conversation. He sometimes even out-weirds me. I know, unheard of, right?

“So, since you’re apparently not yet bored of me,” Ignis continues, “tell me, Prompto. Do you have any unfulfilled fantasies?”

I give him a weird look right then. “Uh, yeah? Who doesn’t?” I say, giving a nervous laugh. “Like, don’t we all? I bet even you, Mr. Serious, have a bunch of them that you’re too shy to tell me. Just like I do.”

“Too shy to tell me? Such as?” Ignis asks. He leans close to me in that way he always does, as if his sultry eyes are ordering me to spill all of my secrets.

I’d already confessed plenty to him in the duration of our four years together, but there’s always something that I’ll take to the grave.  I guess there’s one that I could stand to let out in the open, though, one of my less… unique ones. So with a casual shrug, I decide to indulge him. 

“Okay, okay, so it’s kind of dumb, but it is what it is,” I murmur.

“I severely doubt it’s dumb in any sense of the word.”

“It is.” 

“Go on and surprise me, then,” Ignis urges.

I take a slow breath, conjuring it from the Graveyard of Stupid Fantasies until I’m full on necromancing the whole vision in my mind. "Okay, so. Picture this.” I roll onto my side, giving myself a perfect view of him so I can see his reaction while I speak.

“You and me. Dressed to the nines. And I don't really mean in suits or anything like that. I mean we're wearing our most badass, hottest outfits ever. I'm talking leather. I'm talking studs. I'm talking my Crownsguard uniform, but even more badass. We're dressed like punk-ass bitches, though you’re in an outfit that's a little more gentlemanly, maybe.”

“A gentlemanly punk-ass bitch. Fascinating.”

“Dude, shush. Zip those kissable lips of yours.”

Ignis chuckles, and I know that I’m not going to get away with a statement like that until I kiss said lips. So I do, and Ignis’ fingers brush along my cheek as we part. I feel my heart flutter in the way Ignis knows how to activate with little effort.

“Where was I? Oh, right. Punk-ass bitches.” I shift closer to Ignis so I can slide my arms around his neck. “Either way, we're turnin' heads, we're lookin' damn good. We just had the best food we've ever had in our lives, and now we're on our way to a concert, one we've been anticipating for like, a year." I can’t help it; while I speak, my grin keeps growing. It’s dumb,  _ so dumb _ , but man, it’s such a fun little fantasy.

"We have the time of our lives. The concert's even more incredible than we could have ever imagined. We're moshing, we're maybe even drinking a little. We're making out on the dance floor. We're _ living _ ." I take a breath, then, as my heart rate apparently skyrocketed. Ignis is watching me with an indiscernible look on his face. Is he amused? Is he unamused? Does he think it’s dumb after all? Yep, it’s dumb, I knew it.

“Go on,” Ignis coaxes, as if he can sense my courage start to wane.

I take another breath. “Well okay, if you insist. So… we leave the venue late, completely high off the adrenaline.”

“Mn. Such an enthralling, eventful night would leave us all riled up, I imagine,” Ignis says lightly.

I smirk. “Yep. We're laughing. Our hands are still everywhere. Y’know, no nook or cranny left unfondled.” 

“And what type of trousers would I be wearing during this scenario?” Ignis feels the need to ask, interrupting my train of thought once again.

I give him a look. “... _ what _ ?”

He sighs. “What  _ pants _ would I----”

“Dude, I know what trousers are. I’m trying to say  _ what?  _ Out of all that,  _ that’s _ the detail you’re focusing on?” I stare at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Pants are very important, Prompto. They complete the entire ensemble,” Ignis says matter-of-factly. 

I answer quickly, but it’s not like I’ve been thinking about this a lot or anything. “Leather pants, obviously.”

“Oh?”

“Tight ones.”

“Ah. So, are they the tight that would leave me with a bit of breathing room, or the tight that if I were to sit, my cheeks would burst right through the back seam?”

I snort. “Well, you’re not gonna be in them for very long. If that helps.”

“Bursting seams it is, then.”

“Aaaaanyway,” I continue. My hands find their way to Ignis’ shirt collar, and while I speak I fiddle with the top button until it pops free of its fastener. “We stumble around, howling like a bunch of hooligans. Eventually, we duck away into an alley somewhere.”

I stop.

“And?” Ignis asks. “Come, now. That can’t be the end of the fantasy.”

I give him another look. “Oh, come on. You should know where this is going already.”

“I have an inkling, yes. But I thought you were the one sharing the story? I’d like to hear it in your own words.”

I roll my eyes. “So we go into the alley, we make out, yadda yadda yadda, everyone has a good time and all is merry, the end. Wow.”

Ignis chuckles. “Prompto?”

“So what about you? Any previously unearthed fantasies of your own that you’re willing to share?” I ask, kinda tiring of hearing my own voice right now.

“My fantasy involves you properly finishing the tale of your very intriguing fantasy.”

“You have an imagination, right? Use it,” I say, giving him a playful shove.

“But Prompto, it’s our anniversary,” Ignis says. Is he pouting? He’s pouting. You wouldn’t believe it, but Ignis is capable of giving the biggest puppy dog eyes,  _ ever. _

“You’re unbelievable,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. “Okay. So we’re making out. You push me against the wall.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And then….”

“And then?”

“You push me against the wall.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“Hanky panky occurs. The end.”

Ignis laughs again. “All right. I suppose that’s good enough.”

I smile while my fingers pop open another button on Ignis’ shirt. “Happy now?”

“Very. Though, I’m not sure what the problem was. That was rather… tame, compared to some of the other fantasies you’ve told me about in the past.”

I scrunch my nose. “Yeah, but it’s because the beginning was silly. Like, as if you’d really go to a death metal concert with me.”

“Have I ever said that I wouldn’t? I don’t recall ever receiving an invitation.”

“Well, no, but---”

“I think it would be an interesting experience.”

“Really?” My hand moves back to Ignis’ chest, to that little window of skin I’d exposed. “You’d really do that with me?” Honestly, I’m shocked. Ignis hates my music, generally.

“Absolutely.” Ignis smiles at me while he reaches for my face. “I’m afraid my levels of ‘punk-ass’ may be a little on the low side, though.”

I can’t help but grin. “I wouldn’t worry about that too much,” I reply, turning my face just enough to catch his palm against my lips. “I’d say you’re sufficiently punk-ass, maybe even enough to qualify for the full ‘punk-ass bitch’ title right off the bat, even.”

“Ah, I see. You may be right. After all, I’ve had plenty of time to learn from the master,” he murmurs, an amused expression on his face. Gods, he looks so handsome right now, in the dim lighting; I can hardly stand it.

I laugh, and I’m about to reply with another choice response loaded with a generous dose of snark, but suddenly, he’s kissing me. He’s kissing me in that way I  _ like  _ and oh, oh  _ damn. _

Well, it can’t be helped. I’m on top of him now, and I can’t stop kissing him. It’s entirely his fault, though. I mean, he was the one who made me conjure up the ‘Ignis Scientia in Tight, Studded Leather’ fantasy again, so like… not my fault.

Y’know, when you’re dating the hottest man in the universe and kissing him, when the hottest man alive’s hands are buried so deep in your hair it makes it hard to think straight, you can really forget all about where you are. We’re still outside, and we’re technically in a public space. But I suddenly don’t really care. 

I’m straddling him now, and I’ve undone a few more buttons along the front of his shirt. I’m probably guilty of grinding down on him a few times - still not my fault - and suddenly, wow, it’s getting hot, all systems are go. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Surprisingly, making out with Ignis Scientia wasn’t actually part of tonight’s plan (at least, not while we’re outside), but, it’s happening. I can feel him getting really into it, too - the leather of his gloves is catching on my hair as he rubs at my scalp, his teeth are dragging along my lips each time our mouths part - whew. I feel like I’m drowning. 

And then, there’s the hands on my ass. Lucky for me, Ignis sure seems to love my ass. He’s always subtly brushing against it ‘by accident’, and when we’re in the bedroom, those hands are usually securely fastened there. I’ve got no complaints, though - nothing turns me on faster than when Ignis is groping me so enthusiastically, with no restraint for his inner desires in sight. I  _ love _ when that man comes undone. Besides, the dude’s got nice hands. Who wouldn’t want them all over you?

Well, there’s a lot of groping going on right now. It’s hard not to get lost in the moment, and, uh, I’m kind of getting guilty of that. Somehow, I manage to tear away from Ignis’ mouth long enough to trail lips down his neck and to his chest, and while I find a nice spot there to attend to, his hands are… um. His hands are pretty much treating my butt cheeks like a bicycle horn. I mean, okay, to each their own, but---

“Prompto,” Ignis says. I ignore him, giving his chest another pretty darn good kiss, in my opinion. 

Honk, honk. Bicycle horn ass. I crinkle my eyebrows and decide to glance up at him. “Eh?” I barely utter. Kinda busy here, dude.

“Might you need to see a doctor?” he continues.

Nice, nice. Didn’t know I was in attendance of Mood Killer 101 class.

“...what?” I slump against him, resting my chin on his chest as I meet his gaze. My heart’s beating pretty hard, and a certain other area is wanting some attention right about now. But, uh, that was kind of a weird thing to say; it wasn’t really something one could pass off, to continue on like it wasn’t completely out of nowhere. 

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but you appear to have an abnormal growth protruding from your left buttock,” Ignis says lightly, giving said buttock another honk. 

I’m this close to asking if he’d smoked something funky before we came here, but then, quickly, the realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

The ring.

The ring box.

I’d put it in my ass pocket, because of course I did.

Shit!

Ignis had distracted me to the point where I’d completely forgotten all about the thing I’d been stressing over for weeks. What a magical man. What a perfect man. What an  _ awful  _ man, what a---

“Oh, uhhhh,” I try and articulate, but nothing’s coming out. I sit up, slapping his hands away from my backside so I could do the honours in their place, clasping the offending cheek with my palm. Well, the box was still there. At least it hadn’t gone AWOL. “Don’t worry, it’s not a tumour,” I reassure.

“Did you accidentally bring the TV remote control along for a stroll? Again?” he teases.

“If I did, I’d be pointing it at you with my finger mashing the ‘mute’ button right now,” I fire back. Despite the nerves building up in my chest again, thanks to being reminded about my little plan, I laugh, giving my hips a little wiggle. Ignis makes the most wonderful subtle sound in the back of his throat when I do that, and it makes me want to go back to forty-six seconds ago, before The One Ring came into the picture.

Ignis is all fired up (appropriate, considering his name), his glasses kinda askew, with his hair falling out of style in a loose strand here and there - and if I’m being honest, he looks really  _ mmmmn, tasty, _ right now. But he knows me too well. He can tell that my mind had wandered, and gently, he places his hand on my hip, stroking it with his thumb. 

“Is everything all right?” he asks softly, giving me that look that he usually reserves for moments where I’m about to have a little freak out. I’m not quite in freak out central yet, but the more I dwell on it, the more I’m beginning to think that yeah, sure, I might do just that.

“No. I mean, yes?” I reply, and his eyebrows furrow in concern. Nooo, noooo, eyebrows, _ please _ go back up, it’s  _ fine _ ! “I’m perfectly fine, Ignis. Couldn’t be better.”

He gives me a look that says “like hell you are” and ugh, well, there’s no going back now; the evening’s been ruined.

I groan, and slump against his body. I feel his arms snake around me, palms gliding ever so faintly up and down the canvas of my back. “I’m awkward. I’m sorry,” I grumble.

“You’re perfect, I love you,” Ignis replies easily. “Tonight is perfect, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I love you too, and yeah, it is,” I offer in a breath.

“Then what’s troubling you?”

I smile. “I love you so much, it’s compromising my thought processes. Can’t think good no more.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Oh, it is.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re concerned about your tumour?”

I snort really loud. “It’s not a tumour!” I say with a burst of laughter.

Ignis chuckles.

I love him. 

My heart’s racing now, and it’s not because Ignis is hot (it was before, but not anymore.) I’m not even sure where to start. In fact, if I’d had a plan before we got here, it’s now long gone, lost to the void that is my brain. Bye bye, nice knowing you, proposal plan. It’s not like you were important or anything.

“But actually… there was… something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” I finally say, after Ignis’ hands rubbing at my back helped me relax a little.

“What is it, Prompto?” 

In my mind, I cycle through my usual self-deprecating thoughts which, thankfully, have been happening less and less frequently lately..  _ Do you actually like me? Am I secretly annoying you, like, all the time? Why me, out of everyone in the world? Why did you choose me? _

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” I ask instead.

Ignis barely lets a second pass before he replies. “With you.”

Well. This is going better than I thought, at least. 

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious.”

“Okay, so, ten years later, you’re with me. What else?”

“Living happily with the love of my life at my side, I imagine we’d own an array of cats---”

I knew that was coming. “Of course. You and your cats,” I tease with a smile.

“---in a wonderful house in the countryside. A place where we can live peacefully together; you’ll be a world famous photographer at that point, and---”

I snort. “Uh huh.”

“---as for myself, well, perhaps I’d be a stay at home parent.”

Hey, does anyone have a spare defibrillator I could use, real quick? Because my heart just stopped.

“...yeah?” My voice comes out as a warbled squeak.

“Of course, this is all speculative. After all, the ticket to one’s future is blank.”

“It is,” I whisper. A house… a stay at home parent… what? Ignis had been thinking about the future this whole time? Since when?

“It’s… funny you should bring up this topic, Prompto,” Ignis continues. His arms embrace me a little tighter, and suddenly we’re moving into an upright position, with me sitting comfortably in his lap. “As it happens… I’ve… had something I’ve wanted to talk to you about lately, as well.”

“Oh yeah?” The jackhammer that is my heart is powered on again, and I’m staring at him, trying to make heads or tails of his expression. Ignis is really good at keeping a straight face in any given scenario, but on the rare occasion he lets his composure slip, it’s obvious. To me, at least. Right now, suddenly, he looks nervous. He’s always so great about maintaining eye contact with me whenever we converse, but right now? He’s looking over at one of the nearby candles. His Adam’s apple bobs slightly. Is he sweating a bit?

His hand makes a right from the small of my back, and suddenly, he’s reaching into his jacket pocket.

I’ve seen this shit enough times in movies to know what he’s reaching for.

...

Oh, sweet mother of Shiva, he’s about to propose.

“Wait!” I shriek.

Ignis looks like he may have just piddled a little when he freezes, staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Now hold it  _ right  _ there, mister.” I don’t know why I’m saying these words. Am I trying to be funny? Or something? Is reciting cartoon dialogue appropriate right now, Prompto?

Ignis says nothing.

Oh my  _ god _ I’m ruining  _ his _ moment, now.

“Uhhhh,” I groan. I sound like a zombie, and maybe I am one, because I don’t think I have a brain right now. “I mean, um.” I laugh nervously, because what else can I do right now? I’m a mess.

“Prompto?” Ignis asks. He’s looking at me in concern, again.

“I know what’s going on here,” I continue with my cartoonish monologue.

“Do you, now?” Ignis is still watching me, and after he finishes analyzing, he seems to calm down and a small smile grows on his face. He knows me. He knows I’m just having another moment.

Well, here goes nothing. I reach behind me, shoving my fingers down my ass pocket so I can clasp the precious object that’s been causing me so much grief. 

I hesitate.

“You, sir, are  _ not _ stealing my thunder,” I add, and with that, I pull the object out of its hiding place. My fingers are concealing it as I bring it around to my front, and it takes me a second to get the courage to expose it. The little red velvety box, my ‘tumour’, as Ignis so deemed it, sits in my palm, waiting to be judged, like someone donning a new bathing suit for the first time.

I have no idea what to do now.

I look up at Ignis as my heart tries to decide if it wants to stop or participate in a grand prix.

I’ve... never seen that expression on his face before.

We just. Stare at each other. For a long time. Both of us, trying to make sense of what was going on, and how we’re going to deviate from our previously set planned routes, now that someone had thrown a tree trunk in the middle of the road.

Thankfully, it’s Ignis who breaks the silence first.

“Steal your thunder?” Ignis says at last. His hand disappears into his jacket pocket. I stare, unable to rip my eyes away, and my heart aches when I see what he produces. A small velvety box of his own, a deep ocean blue, now sits in his palm. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

So, we’re sitting here, each with a ring box in our hand. It’s a stance. What is this? I can’t help but think that it’s like we’re in some sort of bizarre sports anime, where we’re expected to duel each other using engagement rings and nothing else, and take it  _ dead seriously _ .

And to top of it all off, that whole “I wouldn’t dream of it” statement... was that supposed to be some kind of challenge? A taunt? A “go ahead, propose to me, I dare you?”

Maybe we’re in a sports anime after all.

…

Ignis isn’t making a move.

Fine. Guess I’m proposing.

I swallow my nerves and open my mouth to speak. “Ignis, I…” I start. But nothing else comes out.

Ignis watches me. He’s tilted his head to the side slightly, like a puppy, and when I don’t continue, a smile grows.

“Prompto,” he says. “I have something to ask you.”

Is he swooping in? He’s swooping in. Oh, it’s  _ on, _ Scientia.

“No you don’t!” I yelp. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore, because suddenly I’m reaching for Ignis’ box, attempting to snatch it away. But he moves his arm up, just out of my reach.

“Prompto, would you---” he continues, his tone light. Amused.

“Not listening!” I interrupt. I sit up on my knees, elevating myself up higher to try and grab it again, but Ignis’ limbs are just too damn long, you know? Even propped up, his arm length is towering above me. I feel like a pedestrian staring up at the Eiffel Tower on street level.

“Would you do me the honour of---” he tries again. His voice is lined with a laugh, now.

I cut him off, my free hand pressing to his shoulder as I try to get up higher, my ring box hand flailing around in the air. “Nooooo, you stop that right now!” I cry.

I swat at him, and then  _ bam _ , we’re both down for the count. Ignis loses his balance, toppling over onto the sleeping bag with me along for the ride, and now we’re both laughing. And hard, too. I’m wheezing. I can hardly breathe. Ignis is in the same state; he’s laughing, loud, straight from the gut, as we wrestle around on the ground, trying to grab at each other’s ring boxes. We just narrowly miss knocking over one of the candles as we roll off the sleeping bag, the dew-kissed summer grass beneath us.

Eventually Ignis, being bigger and stronger than me, ‘wins’ as he hovers above me, gently pinning me beneath him. 

“Prompto, I’ve never loved anything in this world more than I love you,” he says softly. The laughter’s gone now, but the mood still remained; we’re both smiling, breathing hard in the aftermath of our epic showdown. 

I feel like I’m gonna choke up. “Same here,” I offer in response.

“From the very moment we first met, I knew that my heart belonged to you and no one else,” Ignis adds. His free palm is on my cheek now; he’s holding me so delicately, so lovingly, I want to cry, and it’s gonna happen.

Oops, I’m choked up. “Me too,” I manage to whisper, despite my throat constricting itself.

“And there would never be an honour more immense, more wonderful---”

“Ignis---”

“----than if you were to allow me to be yours---”

“Ignis,” I say again, taking a deep, shaking breath. The tears are here now, and they’re rushing out of the driveways that are my tear ducts for the party down the street.

“---until the day I part from this world.”

I gasp for air, and I laugh at the sound. “Oh my gods, you’re killing me,” I squeak out. “I’m.. I…”

Ignis sets his box down so he can prop himself up on his elbows and place his other hand on the opposite side of my face. His thumbs wipe away the tears that streak my cheeks, but they’re quickly replaced by more. “Did you have something you wanted to ask me, as well?” he asks sweetly.

“You’re unbelievable!” I exclaim. He’s laughing again, and so am I. “Dude, I… I had a script and everything! Not that I even remember how it went, and besides, it doesn’t really matter. That thunder? Well, it’s been stolen now.”

“I’m sorry, Prompto. I’ll make it up to you later,” he replies warmly. That smile, though. It could melt an iceberg.

Okay, so he stole my thunder, yeah, but honestly, I’m really glad he did. Because what happened just now was more perfect than I could have ever planned. My script sucked, honestly, and this,  _ this -  _ is everything I love about Ignis, all wrapped up in a convenient package. Ignis is fun. Ignis is romantic. Ignis is sweet. Ignis is hilarious. Ignis is everything I’ve ever wanted.

Thunder stolen or not, I realize something. He may have just sniped me with the spoken part of the proposal, but he hasn’t shown me his ring.

Therefore. It’s payback time.

My free hand moves to the back of his neck as I pull him down for a kiss. He complies. I distract him, and while we’re kissing… pretty intensely, now, my hand that’s still clutching the ring box comes around and presses against his chest. He blinks as he pulls away slightly, about to speak, when I interrupt him.

“Ignis, will you marry me?” I ask simply. I snap open the lid to the box with my thumb (real smooth, Prompto) and present to him what I’d been mulling over for an eternity. 

It’s not the greatest ring in the world, I’ll admit. It’s not as flashy as, say, the royals and their jewelry, but it was all I could afford. It’s a small silver band, and there’s a little purple-blue stone held securely in the middle. Call me cheesy, but I tried really hard to match the stone to the colour to my eyes, and let me tell you, it was hard. My eye colour isn’t exactly the easiest to make sense of, but I did my best.

Ignis often tells me how beautiful they are. My eyes, I mean.

Oh shit, I think he’s crying.

Ignis’ eyes shimmer with tears in the moonlight as he looks at my ring. I feel nervous. Is my little, modest ring good enough for Ignis Scientia?

“Of course I will,” Ignis whispers.

It  _ is _ good enough.

We’re kissing again, and I can feel his tears mix with mine as our faces brush together.

“May I?” he asks, and I’m not sure what he means. But then, he’s sitting up, and he’s picking his own box up off the grass.

I nod, sitting up as well, and when he opens the lid, my breath is taken away for the fiftieth time that night.

A green stone. Green, like Ignis’ eyes, and there’s an engraving on the underside of the gold band, he informs me.

He embraces me, holds me close, and leans in.

“Beloved,” he says softly against my lips. 

Beloved.

I’m crying again. Will I ever stop? Probably not.

He insists that we exchange rings at the same time, and as we slide our rings on the opposing fingers in unison, I feel the pieces of my previously uncertain future fall into place.

I’ve gotta say, “Ignis Argentum” has a nice ring to it.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://saturnvalleycoffee.tumblr.com). I've also got a [FFXV sideblog](http://caseofthestolenspecs.tumblr.com), where these short stories are being cross-posted to!
> 
> [THE AMAZING BREOTCH MADE ME A MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC FOR MY BIRTHDAY.](http://breotch.tumblr.com/post/172446514465/beloved-caseofthestolenspecsmore-happy) PLEASE LOOK AT IT, IT'S BEAUTIFUL AND EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED. *cries*


End file.
